I hardly need to give a sermon today, for in your groups you have already been considering the significance of our Holy Communion, how we share it at
St Andrew's, and how the way we do things may help or hinder others to share it with us. I would be glad if you felt you wanted to share with me what you have discussed in your groups, but that will be up to you; I wait in hope...
What we have been doing here this morning is preparing for our Communion next Sunday, just as, years ago, Presbyterians prepared for their Communion Sunday by extra services beforehand. We are also building bridges between the worship of Christians in Corinth, far away and long ago, and our own experience of worshipping God in Sheffield in the twenty-first century. And of course we will also have brought with us many other experiences of celebrating communion, whether it's in our home churches when we were growing up, or in situations far from home and family; whether it was plain or magnificent, intimidating or welcoming.
The simple act of eating and drinking together is foundational for being human, and that is part of the power of Communion. Indeed, every time Christians from the Salvation Army eat and drink together, they recognise Jesus present with them. Yet in this church we celebrate this fellowship between Jesus and us, with solemnity and reverence, with display of silverware and procession of Elders, in a way that might make an outsider think of the Catholic church. And I suspect our ceremony may have been relaxed from former times; for I know that within living memory, the Elders of St Columba's church in Oxford garbed themselves in morning dress to distribute communion to the congregation.
What does this signal to others about our beliefs? We evidently take this holy meal very seriously. Yet what is most important for us: that relationship with God which Communion makes possible, or the particular way it has developed for us? When I visit other churches it is frequently in order to celebrate Communion with them - firstly because I go to churches which have no minister of their own, and secondly because I appreciate sharing in Communion more frequently than we do here in St Andrew's. So the first time I visit a church, I always ask them: How do you celebrate Communion? And they almost always reply, Oh, in the usual way. Because this service is so universal, people assume that their way to celebrate must be the way that everyone else does it - yet that's not so. Our way at St Andrew's, ceremonial and organised, is characteristic of Presbyterian churches, yet for Nonconformist churches like ours there is no set pattern to who does what when, which can lead to some interesting muttered discussion in the middle of the service when wires have been crossed. Elders here are all too well aware that for some inexplicable reason I hardly ever remember to serve the table elders with wine from the chalice rather than from the little chalicules - Table Elder 1 is often forced to hiss ‘Chalice!' meaningfully in my direction. But they are a forgiving group, and in the end a momentary lapse in concentration doesn't stop Communion being real.
What, then, in my experience, may stop Communion being real? Paul's mysterious phrase about people ‘not discerning the body' may help us here; for when we are not including everyone, Christ's body is unrecognised among us. It goes right back to poor Junia's problem: when people may think they are being welcoming, but in fact stop others from joining in, just because of the way things are set up. And wherever people are on the outside, Jesus is there with them. We realised recently at a Youth & Education meeting that whoever goes out with the children on Communion Sundays always misses communion. Now we will invite them back in when we prepare to receive the bread and wine. But unless the point had been raised, I'd not have realised the ironic fact that someone's work for the church was keeping them away from Communion.
Paul was able to challenge the Corinthian Christians, who probably had the best of intentions, to see how the way they did things contradicted the message of God's love that had brought them all into the church to start with. And they weren't alone. Every church needs a reality check from time to time, to see if what we think we're telling the world is in fact what the world is hearing from us. In your groups you had the opportunity to consider who we may be leaving out unintentionally. Let's use those insights to make this a church for everyone.